But not exact?
Josephine wanted to know what could be similar, but she’d already used up all of her bravery on her earlier line of questioning.
“I’ll pay your father a sum this week,” he continued, not slowing at all, even when Josephine nearly tripped over her own feet at his words. “His financial situation, as my soon-to-be father-in-law, shouldn't be allowed to be called into question. Perhaps I can do so under the guise of a wedding gift.”
Josephine was struck momentarily mute.
How did you thank a man for doing what one had made it so clear that they wanted?
She certainly hadn’t expected him to be so ready or to help so quickly. Relief filled her in a way that she had never experienced, tears pricking the backs of her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, unable to find words to express her gratitude better.
“Thank you,” the duke repeated, stressing the words. “You cannot imagine how refreshing your frankness is.”
Josephine laughed. “I’ll endeavour to continue to be so then.” Even if she imagined at some point it might become less refreshing.
The duke’s lips twitched. “And I’ll endeavour to remember how to be a good husband.” He slid his arm from under her hand, the length of his sleeve travelling her palm until fabric became skin and he could flip his hand within hers as he took her hand in his much larger one.
The skin was rough and calloused but soft at the same time, his fingers eclipsing hers as he held her hand as they walked.
The contact sent jolts of warmth through her, her mouth going dry as she tried to ignore the girlish whispers in her head.
Engaged couples held hands, she reminded herself. It was a perfectly normal thing to do.
Even if it made her feel as if her body was floating somewhere outside of the manor.
“I shouldn’t claim to be able to tell if I would know the difference you know, having never been married before.” Josephine’s face warmed directly after she said the words, wincing at the honesty that he just seemed to pull straight out of her.
But the duke’s thumb was warm and comforting as it traced the back of her knuckles.
“I’d say that was lucky for me, but I have no intention of misleading you.” He paused as they stopped in front of a small door, opening it as he offered her a half-smile. “This is my private sitting room. I like to go here when I want privacy.”
The room beyond was more masculine than any of the others, dark woods and full of a scent that reminded her strongly of the man beside her.
“In my endeavour to be a good husband, however, I imagine I must tell you that it is, of course, never off limits to you.”
His humour warmed her, along with the reassurance he offered her. It was light, both genuine and unserious in the same breath, and Josephine could feel that worry that had been gnawing at her ease just slightly.
The duke might set her on edge and fill her with emotions she didn’t quite know how to comprehend. Maybe his late wife had perished under suspicious circumstances … but between the two of them, it seemed like they were learning to navigate those circumstances.
Even if he made her feel like a nervous, bumbling idiot.
Even if her stomach twisted into knots of desire just from holding his hand.
Chapter 11
Josephine had avoided going into the village ever since news of her engagement broke. For obvious reasons, of course. She hadn’t wanted to hear any whispers or rumours, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to answer any questions that people might have about the news, but necessity dictated her desires moot when it came time to get her wedding dress fitted.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, a warm gold glow encompassing the street as Josephine walked down it, wishing she had taken her mother up and gone earlier in the day so that she could accompany her. But she’d wanted to avoid the rush of midmorning and then procrastinated until she could no longer do so.
By the time she’d finally been ready to leave, her mother was occupied with other matters concerning wedding planning.
Not that Josephine had minded the walk by herself. It had given her time to think. At least between all the congratulations she’d received about the news as she went. She didn’t think so many people had ever stopped her in one day.
It was why, as she came abreast of the seamstress’ shop, she was unsurprised to hear her name being called out yet again.
She paused just in front of the window, composing herself and pasting a congenial smile as she turned to face the unfamiliar woman bustling over to her.
